


Firestarter

by BasilHellward



Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms
Genre: Arguing, Bonfire Night, Bonfires, Fireworks, First Kiss, Guy Fawkes Night, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rough Kissing, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, Wordcount: Over 1.000, gunpowder treason and lack of plot lmao, i don't even know what this is, just your usual british teenage delinquency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasilHellward/pseuds/BasilHellward
Summary: "Why'd you have to set the bonfire up in the middle of bloody nowhere?"John grins mischievously. "Don't want the fire brigade to spoil our fun, do we?”





	Firestarter

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, this ended up way longer than I meant it to, it was only supposed to be a few hundred words long.  
> Shout out to my friend [missmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmagic) who helped me a lot with this one, despite knowing nothing about Constantine <3  
> Any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors are my own, please point them out so they can be corrected! Constructive criticism is also welcome, as always. Enjoy :)

John's boots crunch over frost and fallen leaves, a torch in one hand and a cigarette in the other. They'd set up the bonfire the day before — scrap wood, old furniture, and what dryish logs and branches they could find in the surrounding forest. Now all they had to do was find their way back to the sodding thing in the dark. It's only seven o'clock but this time of year it's already pitch black.

"'M fuckin' freezing my balls off," he mumbles, flicking his finished cigarette away. He hugs his biker jacket tighter to himself but it doesn't do much to ward off the cold.

"Well your t-shirt's only got about a million bloody holes in it," Ritchie points out at the same time Anne-Marie yells, "You could've burnt me, you prick!"

"Are we there yet?" Gary asks.

"Shut up, Gary,” the other three say in unison.

John falls into step with Gary and brushes their hands together. "Whose idea was this anyway?" he says quietly to John, sounding a little wounded. The others — Ritchie, Anne-Marie, Judith — never approve of John bringing Gary along. But John's known Gaz since they were kids and they've spent more time together than apart since.

John shrugs. "We do it every year.”

"Oh. Right. Why'd you have to set it up in the middle of bloody nowhere?"

John grins mischievously. "Don't want the fire brigade to spoil our fun, do we?” He gives Gary’s arm a playful punch and he half-smiles back. “We’ll be there soon, mate.”

They trip up a steep incline and over roots and branches before finally reaching the clearing. John shines his torch on the pyre he and the others built.

”Jesus,” Gary exclaims, “it’s fuckin’ huge!”

”That’s what your mum said last night.”

”Fuck off, Ritchie.”

”It’s not bad, I s'pose,” Anne-Marie says boredly. 

“Last year’s was bigger.” 

Ritchie, Anne-Marie, and Judith look at John incredulously. It’s a lie — last year’s bonfire was pathetic, all they’d managed to scrape together were a few planks of wood and some cardboard boxes. They didn't even have any booze. But Gary doesn’t know that. John fixes the others with a look that says _Keep your mouths shut_. Judith roles her eyes and whispers something to Anne-Marie that makes her scoff a laugh.

They lay out blankets by torchlight before they light the bonfire. Everyone nicked what alcohol they could from their parents and they’ve ended up with a pretty decent haul of seventeen beers and a bottle of whiskey between them. Ritchie brought a radio but it’s hard to hear over the fireworks. Dozens of them going off now, lighting the sky in flashes of pink, blue, and green before the _bang_ , delayed by distance, ricochets through the numbing air.

The fire catches quickly and between the beer and the blaze, John’s finally starting to warm up a little. The girls are cuddled up under another blanket and when John asks for a lighter, he's handed a joint instead. He gladly accepts it, holding in the smoke until it burns before releasing it. He takes another, smaller draw before passing it along again.

It's not long after that that John loses all sense of time. A light rain comes and goes, the breeze picking up with it. The flames of the bonfire flicker wildly and they're out of beer. They set off fireworks of their own, whistling from the rockets piercing the air like a guitar wailing over the drum of the constant explosions. Gary nearly blows himself up with one of them, letting it go a second before it blows up. 

"C'mere, you stupid git," John calls out to him as he sits back down beside the fire, "before you lose an arm."

He's starting to sober up a little and he's freezing again, but there's still the bottle of whiskey. Gary comes to sit close beside him, hip to hip while John lights a cigarette.

After a minute, Gary asks, "Remember that bonfire we built in your garden 'cause your dad wouldn't take you to the display?"

John grins and offers him the cigarette. "We set off a fountain about two bloody feet from the house. I thought Cheryl was goin’ to do us in.”

Gary hums and takes a draw. Another pause, then, "How come you never brought me before?" He hands John his cigarette back then cracks the whiskey open and takes a swig.

"Dunno," John exhales, "didn't think you'd want to come."

"Why not?" 

John shrugs. 

"Did they tell you not to bring me?"

"Why're you so bloody bothered?" He reaches for the bottle, but Gary holds it out of reach.

"Because you're supposed to be my best mate, John! You're my only mate."

"So _I'm_ not allowed to have other friends either?"

" _No_. I mean yes. I-I don't know."

"You're a right prick when you're stoned, you know that?"

”Whatever. You only hang around with them ‘cause they think the sun shines out your arse.” 

Gary stands back up, taking the whiskey with him.

"Where are you off to?"

"Home. You shouldn't've brought me if you didn't want me here."

"Gaz, wait." John chucks his cigarette as he gets to his feet and jogs to catch up. He grabs Gary's arm and when Gary doesn't shake him off, strokes the inside of his wrist. "Did I say I didn't want you to come? I wouldn't’ve asked you in the first place, would I?"

"What _do_ you want?"

"I don't want to lose my best mate because you're being a wanker. Fuck, that came out wrong. Sod it."

John takes a quick look over his shoulder but the girls are huddled up by the fire with their backs to him and Gaz while Ritchie sets off another row of rockets.

"John..."

"Shut up."

"If this is you tryin’ to say you're sorry—"

John drops Gary's wrist and grabs him by the nape of his neck instead. Gary's eyes widen but John closes his eyes and leans forward anyway and brushes their lips together. Gary's lips are chapped from the cold but when he places his other hand on Gary's cheek, it's flushed warm. He stands there for a moment and when Gary doesn't kiss him back, he lets go and takes a step backwards.

"Could've shoved me off if you didn't want to be kissed," he says, planting his feet in case Gaz decides to do just that.

Gary frowns, opens his mouth as if to say something, shuts it again, then pulls John forward by his t-shirt and fits their mouths together. John slides his tongue past Gary's lips, tasting bitter alcohol and sweet cannabis. He hears the forgotten bottle fall onto the grass with a soft thud. 

Gary tilts his head, deepening the kiss, his nose digging into John's cheek. Breath coming in short huffs, the air shared between their mouths hot despite the cold. John's hands go to Gary's shoulders while one of Gary's tugs at John's hair. He groans and bites Gary's lower lip then sloppily kisses his way along his jaw to nip his earlobe. Their boots knock together as John steps closer and presses his body against Gary's.

"I don't understand you," Gary mumbles, but even as he says it he's tightening his hold on John, his arms around his lower back as John works his tongue against his neck. “Alright, mate, leave off before you bruise me!”

John smirks and gives him a gentle bite before he pulls away.

"D'you still want to go? 'Cause you could come back to mine. I told Cheryl you'd prob'ly end up staying, anyway. Fuck knows when dad'll be back." He says it all in a rush and hopes he sounds casual enough and that Gary catches his meaning. He can be really thick sometimes.

"Yeah," Gary says, pausing to run his tongue over his swollen lower lip, "alright."

John steps back and suppresses a shiver when the breeze cuts between them. "Oi!" he shouts over his shoulder. Ritchie, Anne-Marie and Judith turn to look. "Me an' Gaz are off."

"What, already? It's barely midnight."

"Promised Cheryl I wouldn't be out too late," John lies.

"Since when do you keep your promises?" says Anne-Marie. John gives her the finger.

"See yous later. C'mon, Gaz."

Once they're far enough into the forest to be out of sight, John takes Gary's hand. Gary turns to look at him and when John gives his hand a squeeze, the corners of his lips curve into a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you have a minute, leave a comment telling me what you thought, I'd love to know. Constructive criticism is welcome! If you don't have a minute, just leave kudos ;)


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